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* * *
“Doyou really think it is wise for him to make these inquiries?” Marilee wondered when they were out of earshot of the night guard. “What if it brings him to harm? He’s already set a target to his back against the peerage in my defense. I’m glad that he arrived when he did. I cringe to think what might have happened otherwise. But it was dangerous and we are already in such a precarious situation. If harm should come to him…” Marilee broke off worried.
Peggy squeezed tight the limb that she held. “Do not think on it,” she whispered. “He is a grown man, and he knows the risks. If we allow ourselves to worry, you and I, we shall become sick with it. I too have a pit in my gut at the thought of the trouble he might bring upon himself, but he knows, as well as we do, that there is no other choice. It must be done, and he is the only person who can do it. Our hands are tied, quite literally, to this house. We must have hope.”
“I’m trying,” Marilee said with a sigh. “It is only that…” but she had no words.
“It is only that you have come to care for him,” Peggy finished with a shrug.
“We both care for him,” Marilee corrected. “All this time here, I’ve grown closer to the pair of you than… almost anyone.” Almost, because there was one other person whom she considered just as dear.
“Yes, I care for him as well,” Peggy agreed. “But it is different, I think, for you.”
Marilee shook her head. “It cannot be.” She had thought on it long and hard and determined that she must put a halt to any developing feeling that she might have been harboring for the solicitor. Their position was far too tenuous. Even if she were freed, by some miracle, she would be returning to serve Miss Caroline. They would go their separate ways and the likelihood of seeing Mr. Crowley again was far too fantastical to allow any hope to take hold. When she escaped this place, she was determined to be happy. She could not find her freedom only to suffer a heartbreak. No, any thought of a future with Mr. Crowley was daft. Marilee put it from her mind; told herself that she could care for him in the same platonic manner that Peggy cared for the man. She could. She would.
Peggy hummed a note that sounded suspiciously like a disagreement, but said nothing. Yet, from the held tongue and raised brow that were directed her way, Marilee suspected that Peggy would have a thing or two to say on that matter if they were ever to find themselves gifted with freedom.
* * *
Marilee was granteda fitful rest that night. Her dreams were filled with dark figures that followed Nikolas just outside of view only to spring up in sudden moments to attack him in the most gruesome of ways. Shots were fired. Knives flashed. Perhaps her viewing of the bloodied bodies of the duke and his men had altered her mind. Her ability to imagine the most horrific deaths was something that was new to Marilee. In her dreams, Nikolas seemed to be in constant danger at every turn. He would speak with a shadowed figure who would present the offer to help him, only to then drive a knife into his back, run a blade’s edge across his throat, or press a pistol to his heart.
Everything they had done up to this point had seemed in relative safety, she realized. Had they ever been caught, a few well-placed words could attempt to explain away, or at least lessen, the truth of their investigation. As they got closer to the truth, the threat became more real, and Nikolas was out there in the streets of the city on his own. Marilee tried to remind herself that he was not truly alone, he had his contacts whoever they may be. Besides, what could two maids really do to help in a world of men? Nonetheless, her captivity grated the nerves even further when it meant that she was forced to sit idly by with nothing more to do than wait. What if he was found out, disposed of, and never returned? She and Peggy might never even hear word of his demise. He would simply stop arriving for their evening chats and that would be the end of it. The thought brought a chill to her bones.
You must stop this, she told herself when she awoke the following morn with an aching jaw from the constant clenching of her teeth. It was clear she had become far too attached to the man. Her worry for her own safety had always been lesser than her worry for Miss Caroline. But now she had the added burden of fearing for Mr. Crowley. Peggy was safe within her sights, where she could relieve herself throughout the day with the verification that the laundress was unharmed. The others… well… her mind ran wild with scenarios of their downfall. She tried to alleviate her concern for Miss Caroline by telling herself that Nick’s investigation into the Blackwell finances could never be linked to the young duchess. So long as Marilee kept the truth of the murders and Mr. Crowley’s investigation wholly separate, one could not connect the two.
Lady Lydia might be selling indentured servants against their will to pay her vowels, but the abduction of Miss Caroline and Marilee, the murder of the duke and his men, had been unconnected and unapproved by this network of brigands. She was sure of it. The highwaymen had been scolded by the madam of the brothel for arriving with what she thought were two well-to-do, ransomable ladies. She had heard the truth of the woman’s shock and anger herself. Had this been their usual scheme, then they would not have kept the secret so tight-lipped, even amongst their own devious ranks. If Lady Lydia had any idea that the real Duchess of Manchester had been hauled off into the night, she would have acted against Miss Caroline, and Marilee, by now. No, Marilee told herself, that secret was still well in hand, though for how much longer even that might hold she could not predict. Surely the demands must have been made by now? If there was going to be a ransom, it would have been asked.
She tried not to think on it. With her composure balancing on the edge of a knife she was forced to throw herself into her duties rather than focus on what may or may not come to pass.
Lady Lydia seemed blissfully unaware of what had passed between her maid and her lover at the top of the servants’ stairs. Of course, Lord Edward would not wish her to know of any attempted infidelity. As Peggy had surmised, to admit that he had been crossed by Nikolas would require an explanation of why he and Mr. Crowley had come to blows in the first place. Marilee was clinging to the fact that the knowledge may hold the gentleman’s tongue.
* * *
She had just setto brushing Lady Lydia’s hair when the errand boy, James, made another unexpected appearance. Marilee feigned disinterest as Lady Lydia scanned the letter and tossed it into the fire. It was only by chance that Marilee caught the sleight of hand. When Lady Lydia had finished penning her reply, she handed her own letter to James, whose hand upon first glance appeared empty. When Lady Lydia withdrew from the brief exchange, Marilee saw her spin away and, in one smooth motion, tuck a folded slip of paper into the bodice of her gown.
That, Marilee would bet her life, had been a banknote similar to the ones that she had seen inside of the locked chest, the ones containing the mark of the three sparrows. Lady Lydia shooed the boy away and sat back at her dressing table as if there had been no such visit at all.
“I think that I shall have my hair full up today,” she said while curling a long lock about her finger. “The mark has faded and Ed likes it when I show as much skin as can be deemed decent. Besides, I am to see His Grace this evening,” her voice changed to a sneer at the mention of the elder of the Bennington brothers.
Marilee did as Lady Lydia bid her, and pinned her tresses high atop her head, exposing the full length of her neck and a good amount of shoulder and décolletage as well. By the time the brothers arrived to take her for an evening at the theater, Marilee had had enough of listening to Lady Lydia’s insults against the new duke. She could not wait to leave Lady Lydia’s company.
CHAPTER14
Marilee found herself racing below stairs to tell Peggy of the exchange. To her surprised, Mr. Crowley was already within.
“Is it so late?” Marilee peered out the window at the darkening sky when they confirmed that the evening was well upon them. She had lost the day and the hour of the visit had come upon her unexpectedly. All the better, she declared, for it meant that she could share the news with both of her companions at once.
“James made a visit,” she whispered in a rush of breath. “I believe I saw him pass the lady a banknote. We know now, for certain, that is how they are being delivered.” She turned to Mr. Crowley with hopeful eyes. “Were your men able to follow him and see from whence he had come?”
“No,” Nikolas shook his head. “They did follow him when he left, however.”
“And…” Peggy pressed with hopeful eyes.
“He made his way to a merchant docking house on the Thames,” he explained. “I shall have to investigate further, but there is a good chance this is where Lady Lydia is managing to have the banknotes converted to coin.”
“Would he not have taken the note there directly instead?” Marilee asked in confusion.
“Not necessarily,” Nikolas explained. “The sums are… quite large. My presumption would be that the runner boy then went to the warehouse to inform the merchant that the lady would be making a withdrawal in the coming days. This would give the man a chance to gather that amount of money and have it on hand when she appeared to transfer the note. Additionally, waiting a short while can make it much more difficult to track the path of the income.” An exact amount being transferred on the same, or very near, dates can be considered valuable evidence. With a gap in the timeframe, and slightly different amounts, Lady Lydia could create a disconnect between the receipt of the funds and her actual payment.
